Data Is A Dangerous Thing
by suggsygirl
Summary: SLASH - Chris/Ray - Chris leaves something incriminating in his desk, Ray has to find out why.


"Oi! Div," Ray shouted at the top of his voice, not known for his meekness and reminding everyone in the building of that fact.

Chris scuttled over to the bigger man, arm full of files and a submissive expression on his face that Ray would never admit pulled at him in places he definitely did not want pulled. 

"Did yer find the Davies file yet?" Ray asked, noting with some amusement that Chris' hands were trembling slightly as he held on to the files in his arms with a tight grip.

"I'm sorry Ray, I 'aven't 'ad time. The boss 'as got me sortin' out files fer... oh what did 'e call it?" Chris scratched his head with the corner of a brown cardboard covered bundle, thinking hard about the word DI Tyler had used. "Database! That were it, somethin' about a database - whatever that is."

"So DI Tyler's orders are more important than mine?" Ray asked with a grim expression, his lips pressed tightly together and the merest hint of hurt showing in his eyes.

Chris' reaction was immediate and comical. "No!" he practically shouted as the files fell from his arms in a cascade of paper. "No, Ray I just... well 'e is the boss an' I just wanted to 'elp. Do something right fer a change." 

Chris stood uncomfortably for a second, avoiding Ray's gaze and then slowly bending down to pick up the reams of paper littering the grubby carpet at his feet.

Ray felt a twinge of remorse; he didn't actually care about the Davies file but making Chris twist and turn in the wind gave him a perverse pleasure that he wasn't intending to analyse any time soon. The way the hair fell across the younger man's face as he scrabbled around on the floor at Ray's feet made him feel a spark of something warm curling around his gut, winding around his stomach and warming him from the inside out. 

Chris stood slowly and looked at Ray quizzically, head tilting to one side like an eager puppy. Ray's anger was quick and all consuming. "Don't just stand there like a lemon, go find the bloody file before we all die of old age."

"Right. Sorry, I'll just..." Chris trailed off, turning to leave as Ray allowed an emotion to flit across his hard features.

Gene and DI Tyler had gone on one of their many excursions, leaving the office in a flurry of brown camel hair and smug determination. Gene didn't bother to tell Ray that he was in charge because he knew that even in the absence of the Guv, Ray was never in charge, never would be and it pained more than he let show. There was only one person over whom Ray had any influence at all and that was Chris and even that was being steadily worn away by DI 'I'm-better-than-you-and-don't-ever-forget-it' Tyler. Every order followed, every word memorised made it clearer and clearer that Chris respected, even liked Sam more than Ray and it was eating at him like a cancer, poisoning his body quickly and ruthlessly.

Sitting at Chris' desk, or rather sitting at the side of the desk that was Chris', Ray lounged in his chair and looked around. The room was almost deserted, apart from Annie over in the corner, clacking away at a typewriter that was archaic even by CID standards. Every few minutes she'd curse softly to herself and run a hand through dishevelled hair, pulling the paper out with a whir and screwing it into a ball - ever the perfectionist.

Ray idly opened the drawer by his knee and started sifting through the junk, interested to know what Chris saw fit to shove in it, just interested in Chris really - Ray found that it was difficult to think that even when alone.

Crap, bits of scrap paper with doodles all over the yellowed surface, swirls and adolescent etchings and... Ray felt his heart leap into his throat as he spotted his name written over and over again in Chris' femininely neat handwriting. He almost shut the drawer reflexively in shock at what he was seeing but the edge of some colourful image caught his eye and he pried further, lifting ribbons of paperclips all strung together, elastic bands and other office supplies out before the photo became clear - well as clear as it ever would be. 

Ray was staring at a photograph of a man that he didn't know, a man that was shirtless and grinning at the holder of the camera, the spark of lust clear in his eye as he posed casually.

A million and one questions clamoured for attention in his mind. Ray shut the drawer and went to the pub.

The hazy atmosphere of The Arms hit him like a tidal wave, the air oppressive and thick with smoke in a way that he had never noticed before. Chastising himself under his breath for becoming such a girl, Ray sauntered over to the bar and ordered a drink. 

The first drink had turned into several and soon Ray was singing - he liked to think he had a good voice and sang in the shower when he was sure that no one could hear him - and carrying on. Gene and DI Tyler (Ray would never call him Sam) had returned from whatever they had been doing, Tyler was flushed and his eyes flashed dangerously with the alcohol, trying to keep up with Gene was always deadly. Ray smirked into his beer at the state his boss was going to be in tomorrow.

Ray was so busy watching his colleagues that he didn't see Chris come into the pub, definitely didn't see him sit next to him, and so when a hand came down softly on his shoulder, he almost fell off his chair in surprise, turning aggressively to remonstrate with whoever had dared to touch him. He looked up into trusting eyes and slumped back in his seat.

"Drink Ray?" Chris asked chirpily, hand still casually resting on Ray's shoulder, the spot burning as though Chris' fingers were on fire.

Fixing Chris with what he hoped was a suitably withering stare, Ray replied, "Obviously and 'urry up before I die o' thirst."

Ray drank to forget but the more alcohol he imbibed, the more the man in the picture came into stark relief, every contour of his body sharp; questions cascaded through his mind unstopped. Why would Chris have a picture like that in his desk? Who was it? Why was it making him feel like this? The last question made him draw a deep and shaky breath. 

Ray got up and staggered towards the men's room, wanting to put distance between himself and Chris before he came out and asked him right there in the pub; consequences be damned.

Washing his hands - although he hadn't used the urinal, just stood with his forehead resting against the damp wall, traitorous thoughts sliding through his brain - Ray winced as the hot water burnt his hand, pulling his fingers back a fraction too late to avoid the pain. As he was cradling his palm and feeling sorry for himself, the door opened and the last person he wanted to see entered the bathroom, huge lopsided grin on his face.

"Ray! Why aren't yer out there having fun?" Chris said in a petulantly whiny voice that made Ray smile despite himself.

"Er, why do you think I'm in the loos Chris? It ain't rocket science is it?" Ray answered mockingly, stepping back as Chris took a step towards him.

"Yer 'urt Ray, let me see." Chris grasped Ray's hand in his own cool one and stroked softly, sensitive skin tingling from the touch as much as the scald.

Ray had to put a stop to this now. "Gerroff yer pansy," he bellowed and snatched his hand back, stalking out of the toilet and yanking his jacket from the back of the chair on the way out, the knowing looks from DI Tyler and Gene making him even angrier.

He stomped down the street, feeling the cool night air on his face and trying to lower his heart rate when Chris caught up with him. A part of Ray was astonished, Chris had to be either incredibly stupid or hugely brave to come after him, the fact that Ray could think of nothing worse than what was happening, failed to diminish his awe at Chris' audacity.

"Ray stop. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... touch yer, it won't 'appen again. Please don't 'ate me." 

Ray almost laughed at the prospect that he could ever hate Chris but kept the bubbling laughter inside, carrying on walking, Chris falling into step beside him and they continued in silence until they reached the front door of Ray's flat.

Taking his keys out and thrusting them haphazardly into the lock, Ray wasn't in the least bit surprised to realise that Chris had followed him in, as he dropped his keys in the little dish by the door and collapsed onto the couch.

"Well sit down then yer berk." Ray managed, pretending not to notice the happy smile on Chris' eager face at Ray's invitation.

They sat in silence for what could have been hours or minutes, Ray couldn't tell, time seemed to warp and stretch when he was with Chris. 

"Who is that fella in the photo, in yer desk?" Ray asked, surprising himself because he hadn't been aware that he was going to say it out loud, he'd thought about it so often the line between real and imaginary was blurred.

Sitting forward in his seat, Chris ran a hand haphazardly through his hair and looked at the carpet. A few seconds passed and Ray was just about to abandon all hope of finding out when Chris spoke without looking up. "Why do yer want to know Ray?"

The way Chris said his name made Ray shiver unexpectedly, the alcohol running through his system making his reflexes sluggish and downright uncooperative as he desperately fought to stay in control. Chris was looking at him with the same lust filled look as the lad in the picture and it was making him squirm uncomfortably. He managed to stammer, "I-I just, I was just lookin' and it seemed like a weird thing to 'ave in yer desk. Someone might think you were... not normal or summat."

Chris smiled, a strange upturn of his mouth that told of secrets and manipulation and Ray was starting to wonder whether Chris was as naive as he looked.

"Do yer think I'm not normal?" Chris asked, voice dropping to a low, chocolaty growl.

Ray couldn't think, was feeling too much as Chris slid off the chair and crawled across the floor on his hands and knees, approaching Ray warily like he was a scared creature that had to be snuck up on. The air seemed to come alive, crackling and fizzing around Ray and he found that he couldn't breathe, his chest tightening as Chris got closer.

He stopped and placed his hands carefully on Ray's knees, the heat of his palm scorching his leg through the cloth of his trousers. Ray's head was swimming and his mouth dry as Chris shuffled between his thighs, his gaze steady and open and fixed on Ray's own, the intention unmistakeable and Ray should punch him for the presumption but couldn't move, was suspended in time just waiting for the world to end.

Chris leaned forward, covering Ray's lips with his own as the world ended with a kiss.


End file.
